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I am blind and drowning. I wander, unsure of where I am, looking for my son, spitting metallic-tasting liquid out of my mouth.
It's been six days since the rain started. As the hours dwindled and the seconds went, I couldn't help but to want to go outside.
My husband went out on the third day, but he never came back. I worried, not only about him, but for the safety of my child and I. You'd think phones wouldn't work, but they're actually still up and running.
I tried calling him, but he never answered. I have the sickest feeling in my stomach that he's never coming back.
A day ago, my mother messaged me, telling me to pay attention to the news. I was sitting in my house. Waiting for more information, with my child by my side.
The news was finally on. But as I was watching, I felt that the sound of rain was calling to me. Beckoning to me. It was as if saying that whatever the news was saying, it didn't matter. We were already headed for the door. I gripped my child's hand tight, making sure he would never let go.
But he did. Ano now I'm wandering in the rain, searching for him, blind and drowning. There are others in the rain too, confused and struggling. I can hear faint wails, but they pale in comparison to mine. I stumbled to the pavement, trying to remember the news anchor's words that were dulled by the rain's sound.
Do not go outside.
It's been six days since the rain started. Three days since my husband left. I wished I had convinced my husband to stay with me. I wished I had stayed in the house. With my husband and my child, watching the news and learning why this godforsaken rain hasn't stopped.
And more importantly, why the rain looks so much like blood.
Edited by DamaXion - 2/11/2020, 10:00
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